Falsified Feelings
by Project Nevermore
Summary: A collection of one-shots showing a shadow of feelings within each Organization Member. In-complete.
1. Heart of Rage

Heart of Rage

He felt confused, consumed by something he didn't even have. A heartless emotion that mimicked rage flowed through his veins, pumping the blood out of the cuts on his fists. His golden-orange eyes observed the room, the destruction that the Superior had caused upon his own Castle.

Before him lay the crumbled pieces of the keyhole portals that once led to the rooms of the nobodies that formed his Organization. Only four stood, the tablet before each door shining a bright blue, the dim light coming forth from them lighting the room he stood in. Heavy steps moved Xemnas forward to face the last one in the bottom row. Two keyblades were stamped on the lit tablet, indicating the room as Roxas'. Infamous Number XIII.

The faux emotion burned inside him once more, and he lashed out at the open portal, slicing the keyhole doorway in half with the red energy sword that materialized in his hand only moments before. The flowing blue portal that screened across the stone doorway flickered and dimmed, leaving only the bottom half of the destroyed entryway lit. The tablet below his feet, though, still blazed brightly.

He breathed deeply, an emotionless tear sliding from his eye and down his tanned cheek. He brushed it away without a thought, without even a clue as to what it could possibly mean, and turned to leave Proof of Existence.

As he took a step through the circular door that led to his own room, the blue gleaming light on his left blinked out, and was replaced with that of a burning red. A red that resembled what he was experiencing that moment. The light matched the others in the room that lay before the broken portals. Without a thought, he brought both energy swords to his hands again and leapt at the undamaged keyhole that just turned red. A resounding crunch and clatter as stone hit stone bounced off the marble walls of Proof of Existence...and then silence blanketed the room again.

Moments later, the ragged breathing and heavy footsteps of the Organization's Superior faded away as he left the area through the circular archway the led up to the Altar that overlooked Deep Dive City, and Kingdom Hearts that he coveted so...the heart that mimicked rage within him...


	2. Heart of Pride

Heart of pride

One slip in that brief frame of time and all would be lost. In a flash, a single instant, everything that he worked so hard to accomplish would fade away like tendrils of smoke in the night sky. A single ragged breath punctured the moment, the artificial emotion pumping through him at an accelerated rate as the Freeshooter took his aim. Another torn breath and his finger was on the trigger. The final faint breath...

Adrenaline shocked him suddenly, and his finger around the trigger twitched. The silence was shattered as the sound of a bullet ripping through skin echoed around the marble room. A released breath and a silent curse mingled in the air where Xigbar once crouched, his sniper pointing directly towards the younger man's vulnerable chest. In that single instant, a jolt that tilted his aim, sending the fatal bullet away from its intended target. The heart.

He gripped his rifles tighter, body pressed flat against a nearby wall, having escaped from the hero's view through a deep amethyst portal that had appeared and disappeared in the blink of an eye. A moment's hesitation caused the misfire...it caused the sniper to swallow his pride and try again.

He couldn't loose. He couldn't miss...he wouldn't let himself be shot down by the opponent he faced. He wouldn't allow it...

In a hesitant moment, he lost that pride...the emotion he knew he couldn't grasp. When that had escaped him the moment the darkness swallowed him. The darkness was slowly and surely eating him from the inside out.

In a simple minute, all was lost...and the last thing that burned into Xigbar's mind as he came face to face with the enemy...was how his pride...the non-existent emotion that had taken him over like a parasite...how his pride made him loose everything in a second.

Like a candle in the wind, the sniper's woes were swept away to join the heart he lost so long ago, and fought so hard to regain. All was lost...in a single instant.


	3. Heart of Guilt

Heart of guilt

Fingerprints dusted the glass cover. His own prints...defiling the protection of such beauty. He let out a shaky breath, reaching out once more to touch the cool glass of the crystalline case. Within the dimly lit room, the single rose sparkled and shone, giving an eerie light to the destroyed room of the castle.

Xaldin's hand coiled back the moment he touched the case, as though it burned his skin during the brief contact. But it was something more, something the lancer couldn't understand. A pang of something strange surged through him, and he felt that for an instant...he had a heart.

He scowled a moment, hearing a distant rumble and crash of a raging fight down the hallways of the castle. If he was going to do it, he needed to do it now. Without another moment's thought, he snatched the jar into his hands, feeling the strange warmth that radiated from the flower and through the glass protection. He spun around on his heel to leave the room with a swift swish of his cloak, but something held him back.

There it was again, that strange and awful thing he felt eating away at his insides. It made his body shiver and shake, and his mind reel with questions of why he decided to do what he was doing. It didn't feel right...and he didn't know why.

He blinked back a strange sensation, hot and warm liquid welling up in his eyes. An experience he never expected to come from a heartless creature. He took a deep calming breath, cursing away the odd feelings he was feeling and stormed towards the door.

The heavy wooden door slammed open when Xaldin approached it, a burst of wind flooding in to rejoin its master. He eyed the decrepit room over his shoulder, his sapphire orbs taking in every detail of the once glamorous room of the Prince who lived within the castle walls. The wind whistled silently around him as he turned away and stepped swiftly out of the room, leaving behind all false guilt that gathered within his mind...leaving it to rot with age like the wrecked furniture that decorated the West Wing.


	4. Heart of Disgust

Heart of disgust

The Chilly Academic at his finest. The icy glare penetrated his victim, a burning glint illuminating his usually frozen eyes. A visible shiver ran across the academic's prey, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Vexen merely frowned with slight disgust. Or what mimicked disgust in the heartless shell of a human that stood before the frightened man.

A gloved finger gently tapped against the syringe, iridescent blue liquid eerily glowing within the fragile tube. Brown eyes locked onto the needle, watching it as it drew closer to his bare and vulnerable skin. The eyes closed, the pressure of the thick and cold metal device setting his nerves on fire. A moment's silence, a prickling on the skin, and the swift release of fluid into the bloodstream.

A strangled cry filled the stagnant air of the make shift laboratory. A ragged gasp for air punctured the scream. Droplets of sweat broke out on the man's deathly pale skin. Shredded nails on steel echoed throughout the dank room. And salty tears ran down hollow cheeks. Yet chilled olive orbs looked on with dissatisfaction. With hate and disgust, discontent and frustration.

"Pathetic." A single word spoken freely by the academic, a stabbing insult that infiltrated the already broken man. A last straw. The shattered man gathered the last of his willpower and courage, spitting angrily at the one torturing him without a second thought. Vexen didn't flinch. Nor did he even change the expression on his face. The same stone cold stare looked back at his victim.

Number four's left hand casually brushed at his cheek, his right moving for an object that lay amongst a pile of deadly tools. A quick flash as the light from the overhanging bulb glinted off the instrument, a sudden stinging on the helpless man's throat. A painful pressure that slowly worsened as Vexen dug the scalpel deeper into the defenseless and thin layer of skin protecting his neck. Blood seeped from beneath the metal, a sharp contrast against the snow white skin of his experiment.

A quick jab and unsettling scream later, Vexen glided promptly across the stone floor of the room and towards the door. He cast a terse glance back at the man convulsing on top his table, the scalpel sticking awkwardly out of the neck and blood gushing from the major artery just recently pierced. A twisted smirk played on four's lips as he flipped the light switch off and let the door slam shut behind him, leaving the other for dead in the freezing lab that he called his own.


End file.
